


Worth the Risk

by Writingwife83



Series: Six Sentence Ficlets Expanded [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Awesome Molly Hooper, F/M, Pirate Sherlock, Romance, moriarty lives au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 19:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writingwife83/pseuds/Writingwife83
Summary: Pirate Captain Sherlock Holmes does his best to outrun danger, and in one instance he has quite a bit of help from the lovely and clever Molly Hooper. That lands him in a sort of danger that he and his heart won’t be able to outrun forever.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MizJoely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/gifts).



> I wrote this many months ago. I posted it on tumblr but never bothered to put it on here. The reason I’m doing so now is that I have a prompt from MizJoely (in honor of the fact that I somehow managed to acquire 2k followers, holy cow lol!) to expand on a couple small pirate themed things I wrote. This is one of them and it works well as a first chapter but the other one is super tiny (only 6 sentences) and I will be writing more before posting here. Anyway, enjoy this first part! :D

Molly walked slowly toward the dark steel bars, sounds of suffering serving as background noise as she tried to remain focused on the pair of eyes that watched her approach.

Captain Sherlock Holmes leaned casually on the other side of the bars, seeming almost completely unconcerned about his surroundings.

“Lovely of you to come and visit, Miss Hooper,” he drawled.

She took hold of the cold bars with her pristinely gloved hands, unconsciously trying to get as close to him as possible.

“Are you alright in here?” Molly asked, skipping the pleasantries. “Have they hurt you?”

Sherlock chuckled. “I should perhaps be asking if _you_ are well. You fainted straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Molly clenched her jaw. Insufferable man…

“I did that to save you,” she hissed.

Sherlock leaned closer then, dropping his voice as well. “Yes, I realize that Miss Hooper, and you are taking further risk being here at this moment. Does Lieutenant Thomas know that you are here?”

“Of course not! And he is still under the impression that I fainted due to the pressure of my corset and the midday heat. If I had not done it, he would have shot you, I am sure of it. At least I bought you this time to escape.”

He glanced around and frowned comically. “Escape does not seem an option at the moment.”

“But as I said, you do have time,” Molly said very pointedly, her eyes holding tight to his as she placed her hand over his on the bar.

He held her gaze in return, diverting only for a split second to glance at her lips. This made her heart skip a beat, but she would not be distracted from her purpose. She shifted her hand almost imperceptibly…carefully slipping the hair pin between his fingers.

They exchanged one last look along with a secret little smile, and then Molly slipped her hand from his and left the prison. She could not risk lingering any longer.

By the next day, the Pirate Captain had managed to escape his prison bonds and no one knew where he’d gone.

That is, nobody but her knew.

Molly Hooper, on the other hand, could breathe a sigh of relief knowing he was safe, well, and on his way. Of course, she knew that perhaps this meant she would never see him again. Or perhaps….he would live today so that he could someday return again to claim what would surely never belong to anyone but him.  

Her heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooooly snap I finally wrote more of this lol. I’ve been very busy the past couple weeks so I really didn’t have a lot of writing time till now. And tbh I was also having a tough time getting the words to flow easily. But I’m happy I finally figured things out and I think I know where I’ll continue to take this. Oh and btw, I tweaked something small in ch1 last week because I wanted to write something a particular way in this chapter. It’s somewhat minor and maybe you won’t even notice. Happy (short) reading! :D

Molly shifted her nightgown, settling herself onto the ledge of her bedroom window to stare out at the moon. It was a quiet and lonely night, as many were for her. And so, as she often did, she filled that loneliness with memories.

Mostly memories of him.

He’d swept her quite off her feet as soon as she’d met him. Not that that had been his aim. She could tell he wasn’t that sort of man who made it his business to leave a trail of hearts in his path. In fact he’d more likely turn his nose up in disdain at the idea. Though, he didn’t seem to turn his nose up at her.

At least, not completely.

He’d technically left her with little more than her own hope after she helped him escape with his life two years before. He was grateful, no doubt. He made that unmistakably clear before leaving. There had been something between them, she could almost swear to it. And not just then. They shared a connection for some time before then. He’d come to rely on her for one thing or another. 

It had all started the very first time he’d sailed into town, injured and desperate, hobbling into her father’s clinic on his first mate’s shoulder. Molly then had the grim duty to inform the men that her father had recently passed away...though she couldn’t possibly turn the men away.

She’d stitched and patched him up that day, not only enthralled with the man she assisted, but also renewing a joy she previously feared she might have lost upon burying her father. And to her very great pleasure, it wasn’t the last time she saw Captain Holmes. He became a frequent visitor. Testing poisons, studying treasures he brought back from his travels, and telling her all about his adventures. Oh how she wished those moments would go on forever.

She sighed, reminding herself that perhaps it simply was not to be. No promises were made or feelings declared before he fled at the risk of being hanged. How he left things with her didn’t matter of course. No, only his safety mattered to her in the end. 

Molly reached over into the little drawer by her bed, pulling out the petite dagger he’d given to her before they parted...

_ “Take it, Miss Hooper,” he ordered, thrusting the small leather bound weapon into her hand. “One day you may have need, and I may not be near.” _

_ She impetuously grabbed his arm, gulping down her nerves as she peered up into his eyes at the foot of the gangplank. “Pray...w-when...might you be near again?” _

_ He gave her a soft smile, quite different from his more often cocky smirk. _

_ “I very much wish that I could say.” _

_ She believed him. For just a moment, it seemed like he truly didn’t wish to put one foot in front of the other and walk away from land...from her. _

_ Before she knew what else to say, he unexpectedly slipped an arm clear round her waist, pulling her in close and pressing his lips to her cheek...oh so wonderfully close to her lips. She unabashedly leaned into him, into his kiss, holding on for absolutely as long as the moment would allow. _

_ But of course, it was far from long enough. _

_ He pulled back, momentarily touching his forehead to hers as he whispered. _

_ “Farewell, Molly Hooper...till we meet again.” _

_ He abruptly released her then, turning to go with a flourish of his cloak. _

_ She stood there a while, watching him walk onto his ship as the rain began slowly falling, watching as he rapidly prepared to sail, and then waiting till the ship moved slowly away and was consumed by the darkness. _

Her fingers trailed back and forth over the smooth little blade glistening in her lap as she gulped back a lump that had unexpectedly formed at the back of her throat. It was hard to think of him so far away, God knows where, likely unable to get word back here. He’d been presumed dead long ago when his ship was found wrecked on a nearby coast not long after his escape, but Molly knew better. It was only now, now that the weeks had turned to months and the months to years, that even her hope was beginning to wane.

Molly sniffed, blinking back the moisture in her eyes before it pooled to the point of overflow. It was silly to worry, to wonder, to drive herself mad with what might have been. Goodness knows that if he could he’d likely tell her to carry on and stop giving him a second thought.

Surely he wasn’t wasting such time on thoughts of her.

Her cat Toby startled her, darting from where he was curled by the fire to take cover under a nearby chair. Just as Molly was thinking what a foolish ball of fluff he was and that he was making a fuss over a speck in the air again, she heard it. A definite rustling outside, and there was no wind that could be to blame that night. She almost dismissed it after the moment of silence that followed, but then she heard the door to the stable creak open and her horse neighing softly in response.

Her heart started pounding, adrenaline coursing as she took rapid breaths. There was nobody near enough to hear a cry for help, especially not at this hour. She really had only two options. Stay where she was and sleep not a wink with the knowledge that someone was on her property, or…

Molly crept steadily out from her cottage toward the little stable nearby. She clutched the dagger tight against her palm as she walked, all the while still hearing noises from her horse, confirming someone’s continued presence. 

It took every ounce of courage in her little body to actually open the door to the stable, taking slow steps inside, once by one as he eyes darted back and forth in search of a possible intruder.

_ Please let it be another stray cat. _

She advanced a bit more, the dagger raised and ready. Strangely enough though, it was a glance at the reflection in that shiny blade which made her jump, whirling around to confirm what seemed too impossible to believe at first. 

And yet, there he was.

He took slow steps out of the shadows, stepping fully into the moonlight that shone in the barn as he made his way closer to her. Finally close enough for their eyes to meet again for the first time in far too long.

Molly gaped in shock for only a split second, lowering the arm that held her now completely unimportant method of defense, then a small but heartfelt smile quickly took shape on her lips. And it rather nicely matched the one that formed on his mouth as well.

“Good God,” she finally sputtered out. “It has been so long- I’d heard nothing, so I started to fear- that is, you see, everyone else simply assumed you were-“

“I am pleased to say they were mistaken, Miss Hooper,” Captain Holmes murmured, blessing her with his voice once again. “As you can now see, I am very much... _ not dead _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully more coming soon! I’m playing it fast and loose with the canon plot here, so don’t expect a super clear connection to how things happened in the show. I’m kinda just picking bits and pieces that work how I want them to. #cuzitsfanficion XD Oh and another note that this is not being beta read. At least not so far. It’s not a big project and I’m just feeling lazy about wanting to just write and post. Point is, any mistakes are completely my bad. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little chat in a moonlight stable. Enjoy! ;)

“Y-your face,” Molly commented, gesturing to his slightly bruised cheek.

“Ah that. Yes my first mate was unappreciative of the fact that I’d not sent word all this time...very unappreciative.”

She nodded, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that he was actually standing there in front of her. It still felt like a dream, though he couldn’t be more real; every line and contour of his face, his hair a perfect crown of dark curls atop his head, and that looming but somehow comforting stature she remembered so well. 

“Are you angry as well?”

Molly’s eyes snapped to his at that low spoken question.

“How could I be? You were surely unable to send word, given the circumstances. I could hardly be angry. I’m simply...surprised, I suppose.” 

“Yes, I gatherI did catch you a bit by surprise,” Sherlock replied, looking her over with a little smirk.

Molly smiled, half in embarrassment as she secured her wrap a bit tighter around her nightgown clad shoulders. In all the commotion she’d nearly forgotten her current attire. 

“Is it safe?” she questioned abruptly. “Safe for you to be back here?”

“I searched far and wide, but Moriarty is still presumed dead. Enough time has passed to ensure the lies he told about me were proved false,” he explained. “I may be a pirate, but to capture a nobleman's children...hardly my crime of choice.”

“Yes, the true villain was caught not long after you took your leave. Even Lieutenant Thomas no longer rallied for your recapture.”

He chuckled lightly. “If he did not care to lock me up then surely the entire city will have will have forgiven me as well. That man never did care for me much. Can’t think why.”

“Well...you are a pirate, after all,” Molly stated weakly, knowing very well it had little to do with that. 

Of course Lieutenant Thomas didn’t care for him. The existence of Sherlock Holmes guaranteed that her affection couldn’t possibly be pulled elsewhere.

“I am indeed,” Sherlock agreed, his tone turning almost somber as he took a step closer to her. “And our dealings in the past put you at considerable risk. Of course I wanted to tell you of my return, but I also release you from any obligation towards me going forward. I should not want to be responsible for continuing to put you in harm’s way, or perhaps simply...putting your reputation at risk. As you can see, I chose to call in such a way as not to draw attention from others.”

She swallowed hard, staring up at him as he spoke so seriously.

He clasped his hands behind his back. “I cannot help but notice you are yet unmarried,” he added softly.

The statement caught her a bit off guard.

“P-perhaps I wish to end my days as an old maid,” she stated with a purposeful smile and cheery tone.

His instant reply was frustratingly confident. “You do not.”

She looked down in embarrassment, quite obviously caught.

“I imagined I’d find you long ago wed upon my return,” he added. “Am I to understand Lieutenant Thomas never…”

“He asked,” Molly explained, keeping her expression as even as possible. “But he was not- though an excellent gentleman- not exactly my...or rather, I was not quite able to…”

“You did not love him.”

She let out a short laugh at his welcome candor. “Yes, I suppose that explains it nicely.”

A moment of silence and he thankfully shifted the topic a bit.

“Watson, on the other hand, seems to have done rather well for himself.”

Molly grinned genuinely. “He has! I cannot imagine a better match. Miss Morstan shall make him very happy indeed. I was hoping to call on her again before the wedding. You’ve made her acquaintance since your return then?”

“Briefly, yes. From what I can see I very much agree with your estimation.” He paused again. “And...I also find that my sister is once again at home.”

Molly nodded. “Indeed. She is well as can be expected. Her mind seems to...come and go. One thing is for certain, it does not appear the asylum did her any real good. If anything it was the opposite. I’ve seen her once or twice. She has shown a strange sort of interest in me.”

His gaze narrowed in interest.

“I suppose simply because...you know me,” Molly stated with a small shrug.

His lips parted as if to speak, but then they shut tightly again. He seemed transfixed by internal thoughts at this mention of his sister, and Molly could tell it was time to bid him goodnight.

“Have you somewhere to stay the night?” she questioned. 

He nodded. “I still have claim to the little place on Baker Street, and Mrs. Hudson would hardly turn me away. I can be there while I remain in the city...however long that may be. And with that I suppose I should bid you goodnight.”

She smiled. “I thank you for calling. It means...a great deal to know of your return.”

With a final “goodnight” he began turning to go. On impulse though, she stopped him short.

“Captain Holmes! I- I made no answer to what you said before, but I’m compelled to do so now. That is, when you mentioned releasing me from obligation. It is quite unnecessary because- because you see, it is not…” She twisted her lips for a moment, the words hesitant to escape. “It is not obligation which ties me to you,” she finally concluded, soft but resolute. 

He stared back at her in the dimly moonlight stable for what seemed like an age. She thought he might argue, might perhaps push her away in some way once again. But she was pleased to see he did not.

Instead, the very hint of a smile began to play at the corner of his lips and he inclined his head toward her ever so slightly, keeping his eyes fixed to hers. And then he was gone. 

Molly Hooper felt sure she was gone as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The heck am I doing next? Who even knows. I’ll try to figure it out soon. XD


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This remains un-beta read, so any errors are mine. I think next chapter will actually wrap this little tale up, so stay tuned. I’m getting a bit of adventure going in this one. Read on!

“This has got to be the most preposterous thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth Captain Holmes!” the new Mrs. Watson proclaimed with a laugh. “At least, in the time that we’ve been acquainted.”

“It certainly is not preposterous,” he replied indignantly. “Why should you be so convinced I’m wrong?”

“Because I’ve met the woman,” she insisted. “Because I’ve been with her in your presence and because I’m in possession of functioning eyes and ears. Is that evidence enough for you, Captain?”

Sherlock glanced at Watson but received only a shrug of refusal at his request for aid. 

“I still maintain she would be happier if she made a match here in London,” Sherlock attempted again weakly.

“Oh my dear Captain Holmes,” Mary drawled, setting her wine glass down and patting him on the arm. “I do not wish to spend my wedding feast quarreling with you about your wasted opportunities. I should far rather dance with my husband!”

This earned her a warm look from the man himself. Then she looked back at Sherlock.

“Please give thought to what I said,” she added seriously. “Miss Hooper is a woman who knows her mind and heart well. She needn’t have anyone tell her what’s best and how she’ll be happiest. She knows who you are and the sort of life you lead, and that has yet to repel her. If you let her slip through your fingers...you’ll live to regret it.”

Sherlock looked at Watson again and smirked. “I imagine you’ll have all the advice you’ll ever want, should you ever wonder what course to take in life.”

John smiled at his wife again as she linked arms with him. “And I am eternally grateful for such a blessing.”

Man and wife went happily to the dance floor, leaving Sherlock to linger behind, Mary’s words effectively haunting him.

He glanced over at Molly across the room, chatting happily with some other young women, her cheeks aglow with laughter and wine and the warmth of the room. It would be awfully easy to go to her right at that moment. He could take her hand, pull her to the dance floor, hold her scandalously close and lead her along in the waltz. He could make it very clear to her and everyone else in the room what he wanted.

Her eyes moved in his direction and met his just briefly, making him gulp.

Yes, it would be all too easy.

Many was the time he’d thought of her while away at sea. Those memories were both a comfort and a torment. The all too brief moment his lips touched the inviting skin of her cheek before his departure nearly drove him mad. He wished many times that he’d simply not done it. That lapse in self control gave him a taste of what could be and took his mind to places he normally avoided altogether.

What mattered was the ocean, the treasure, the searching for undiscovered answers. At least, that’s what he’d thought till she’d so successfully invaded his mind and heart.

Oh of course there were others who had eased open that door to softer emotions in his soul. But it seemed to him that she’d virtually charged through it with a battering ram. She was barely even trying and yet she’d managed to force him to acknowledge and accept things that nobody else had. 

She made him consider things nobody else had.

And yet…

He glanced at her again, enjoying herself at the party, talking with friends. His mind kept coming back to things like this. This was her life, here in London. His life was so different. Yes, the city was a sort of home to him. But so often he was anywhere else but here. Much of the time there was nowhere but his ship to call home. Perhaps if he kept a distance, stayed at arm’s length, eventually she would accept the attentions of the other young men around her. She could certainly have her pick.

Sherlock looked over at the Watsons again, waltzing happily, eyes for nobody but each other. Things were as they should be, he knew, and he was pleased for them. But he couldn’t help but feel that he was now not so greatly needed.

Quietly, he slipped further back in the crowd, further away from the dance floor and the guests and the lights. He made his way to the back doors and took his leave...never noticing the pair of brown eyes that followed him every step of the way.

* * *

 

Molly hummed softly to herself, sweeping the floor of her home. She was so looking forward to seeing Mrs. Watson later that afternoon. A few months since their wedding and there were already whispers of the Watson family beginning to grow, so she was eager to see if Mary would share any such news.

The broom handle nearly knocked over a little ivory box and Molly turned to grab it just in time. That was one of the things Captain Holmes had given her after returning from past travels. She held it in her hand for a moment, fingers moving over the smoothness, before placing it back on the shelf and letting out a little sigh.

He’d come by so little of late. He was gone for weeks more than once since the Watson’s wedding, often sailing alone she’d heard, which was disturbingly reckless. And when he was in London he kept mostly to himself. By now she’d almost completely put the hopes she had before to rest. Clearly the intensity of emotion he’d displayed before leaving those years ago had been purely gratitude and nothing more. She wondered at times if the loss of him was something she’d ever truly get over. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to.

A heavy knock at the door made her jump, placing the broom against the wall. Mary wasn’t expected quite yet but perhaps she been nearby and decided to arrive early.

Molly opened the door with a cheerful smile.

“Forgive me I’d not yet put the kettle-“ she stopped short, letting out a gasp and jumping back a bit.

“Oh don’t trouble yourself about that, my dear lady,” the familiar man on her doorstep drawled. “I’ve hardly come for tea.”

Molly grasped the door, attempting to swing it shut, but he shoved it open again and the two men behind him followed inside as she backed away slowly. 

“I-I’ll scream,” she threatened, eyes darting around her for a possible escape options, despite being outnumbered.

“I imagine you’ll try, yes,” he agreed, grinning calmly.

The moment her mouth opened the two men were on her. One restraining her and the other wrapping something over her face. She kicked at everything in her reach, toppling a small book shelf and a chair in her sitting room and putting a hole in her wall. She pushed every ounce of air from her lungs as loud as she could manage but the sound was muffled by the cloth over her lips. And then as soon as she inhaled, she knew she was done for.

The world around her began to cloud, and Molly knew her eyes would soon close and then she’d slip into unconsciousness, or perhaps even death. This was it, and there was nothing she could do about it. She suddenly wanted Sherlock so badly in that moment that she thought her heart might give way right there and then.

She hated that instead the last thing she saw before darkness overtook her was Professor Moriarty’s smug little smirk.

* * *

Sherlock tightened a rope with a tug, glancing up at the sky to see that the wind already blowing nicely. This would surely be a good day to set sail.

He was awfully surprised though, to look over on the dock and see both Watson and his wife rushing toward the ship. 

Something was most definitely wrong.

He rushed down the gangplank to meet them, his own impending question halted by Mrs. Watson’s horrifying words.

“Something has happened to Miss Hooper!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “I called on her just now and there are signs of a struggle in her home. She is nowhere to be seen and her horse remains untouched in the stable.”

Just like that, Sherlock’s world came grinding to a halt; everything around him. He turned away, his mind whirring furiously. There was logic to this, he knew instantly. Not just logic, but a direct connection to himself, he was sure of it. Because who would ever want to harm Molly Hooper? He could think of only one man and one motive. 

“Holmes, what are we to do?” John asked desperately, pulling him back to his friends before him. “How shall we find her?”

“My sister,” he replied instantly, his eyes on fire now with determination. “I must see my sister.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lack of actual sherlolly interactions in this one. Of course though, there will be some next chapter! ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Juuust kidding, this isn’t the last chapter. XD I decided to keep it on the shorter side and do one more with will for realzies be the conclusion. Now hoist the sails and read on! :D

“Good afternoon, Mr. Holmes- oh my!”

The butler was quickly rushed past by both Sherlock and the Watsons, and despite his voiced concern, they all hurried right into the sitting room where Lady Holmes was found.

“Eurus!” Sherlock demanded of his mother instantly. “I must speak with her! Where is she?”

“Sh-she is in the garden. But she had an unusual visitor some days ago and has said barely a word to anyone since then, so I cannot imagine what you’ll be able to get from her.” Lady Holmes explained as the party quickly headed where she’d specified. “What exactly is the meaning of all this?!”

But they were already out the door again, Sherlock deciding everything would be best explained once Molly was safe. Yes, there was nothing more important than that. Everything else came second.

He reached the edge of the garden, seeing his sister sitting on a stone bench not too far off. One gesture to the Watsons halted them from following beyond that point. Sherlock was already concerned about how much information he’d be able to pull from Eurus, but his best chance would be to speak to her alone. Just the two of them, that’s how she always did best.

“Eurus,” he said softly, approaching as calmly as possible, trying to act as though he weren’t in a tearing hurry.

She turned slowly, glancing at him only briefly before turning away again to continue staring out into the trees. He took a seat next to her gingerly.

“I’ve...come to talk,” Sherlock began. “Eurus, I’ve come to talk about a very important matter. Can you look at me?

It felt like an eternity before she finally turned a bit, still not looking him in the eye though.

“I am pleased you’ve come home you know,” he said genuinely. 

He truly was. He always hated the idea of that asylum, no matter their claims of success and safety. Eurus was where she always should have been. She was with those who loved and cared for her most. 

“Forgive me, for being away so long.” Sherlock cautiously took her hand. He felt her flinch, but he didn’t let it put him off. “I know you must have suffered. I know you may even be...angry.”

She glanced at him then, her eyes narrowing in that almost unearthly way as she began reading and obviously deciding how to proceed. 

Sherlock felt his patience waning though, desperation setting in. 

“Eurus,” he murmured, voice shaking just a bit. “Please, I need your help. You know what he’s done, don’t you? If he used you, if you told him anything in order to help him, I beg of you please now  _ help me _ .”

She met his gaze fully then, her eyes aggressive but conflicted. 

“Nobody helped me,” she whispered.

“I know, I know! You’re right, nobody was there for you. You were all alone and you shouldn’t have been. You have every right to be angry. I wasn’t there before but I want to be there for you now, as I always should have been.”

He saw her expression soften just the very slightest bit. Anger was turning to something more like sadness.

“Eurus, I want to help you and be here for you,” he assured her, squeezing her hand in his. “But I ask that you do the same for me. I  _ must _ stop him. Please help me find her and stop him.”

She paused a moment, searching his face like a treasure map.

“Why?”

Sherlock sighed, unable to hide some exasperation. “Because she’s in danger, Moriarty could harm her!”

Eurus slowly shook her head. “That is not what I was asking.”

He clenched his jaw till it hurt, using all his willpower not to scream at his poor troubled sister.

“Why must  _ you _ find her?” she specified.

The confident and stone like pirate captain felt himself crumbling rapidly. In a way, he wished he wasn’t afraid to say it, wished he could proclaim it aloud from the rooftops. But even now, with her precious life hanging in the balance, his stubborn fears were getting the best of him. What was the point of any of that now? He knew he should let it go.

“Tell me,” Eurus prodded again, curiosity lacing her words. “I wish to hear it from your lips.”

“Because I...I love her.”

Once the words were out, once he heard them spoken aloud by way of his own voice, the truth behind them was solidified beyond a shadow of a doubt. 

“I love her,” he stated once again, no desire to hide the emotion behind them that time.

Eurus tilted her head in thought as she listened to him.

“Yes,” she murmured in something like awe while reaching up to touch his face, as if to tangibly feel what she’d just heard. “I knew this was love.”

Sherlock smiled at his sister, taking her hand in his again and giving it an affectionate squeeze.

“ _ He _ knew it was love as well,” she added.

A chill ran down Sherlock’s spine and suddenly the warm moment between them was cut short. He was about to beg for her help once again, but there was no need.

“That is why he took her from you,” Eurus confirmed. “He took her for himself.”

Sherlock clutched his sister’s hand to his heart. “Where, Eurus? Please!”

“He’ll take her from you where the bells ring over the water,” she finally said, staring off into the distance again.

With that tiny little clue, his mind rapidly did the rest of the work on its own. 

Sherlock stood, leaning down briefly to press a grateful kiss to his sister’s head and whisper his thanks, then rushed out of the garden back to where the Watsons waited. 

“The chapel overlooking the ocean!” he explained quickly. “He has her there, we must hurry!”

“Dear God, is he going to kill her?” Watson questioned breathlessly as he and his wife followed Sherlock’s lead back to their horses.

“Not quite, but nearly as terrible,” Sherlock replied, drawing his sword after he’d mounted. “I believe he’s going to marry her.”

* * *

Molly blinked, her eyelids feeling heavy and her head pounding uncomfortably. Something had happened...something awful. For a moment through, she truly couldn’t recall.

The moment she heard his voice though, all the ugly details flooded back.

“Sleeping beauty has awoken I see.”

She turned to face the voice- Moriarty, who sat nearby, casually bouncing one leg across his knee as he watched her. Even the amount of motion that it took to look his way set her head aching anew and she clutched her forehead. 

He clicked his tongue. “Poor love, I regret having to go to such lengths to get you here but something tells me you’d not have accepted my attentions if they were offered in the more...conventional manner.”

“Perhaps you aren’t a complete fool after all,” Molly muttered behind her hand.

He chuckled pleasantly. 

“Oh no, Miss Hooper, I am not indeed. You see, I’ve recently discovered something about Captain Sherlock Holmes which most haven’t yet.”

She heard him stand and walk over, making lean back defensively against the sette she was on in an effort to stay as far away as possible.

“I’ve found out how to hurt him... _ really  _ and truly hurt him,” Moriarty hissed, leaning in close to her face. “Because there’s one particular treasure which he values above all others. He hasn’t quite got his hands on it yet. And if I were to take it first, nothing would make him suffer quite so completely as that. He’d never recover from such a loss.”

Molly dared to look him in the eyes, as she did remembering the fact that she had one little bit of hope left that she could use in her favor. He was close enough right then for her to try...if only her head weren’t still spinning and her extremities didn’t feel so weak and unpredictable. 

“So go then, and leave me be,” she begged with a sigh. “Go and find this treasure if that is what you both seek. What have I to do with all of that? Do you honestly think he’s shared some clue of its whereabouts with me? I assure you I know nothing!”

He laughed heartily, reaching out to caress her cheek, making her recoil again.

“Oh you dear, sweet,  _ stupid _ girl,” he cooed, shaking his head slowly. “Don’t you see that I’ve already found it? I have it- have  _ her... _ already very firmly in my grasp.”

With those last words, he took her hand and kissed it unreservedly.

As he did that, sending a wave of disgusted realization through her, she happened to glance more pointedly down at herself where she was reclined. Lace, silk...a virtual sea of brilliant white fabric met her now panicked gaze. It seemed enough to surround her, swallow her whole, and drown all hope she fought to keep alive.

She was in a wedding gown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was a very slight play on the ILY scene. Not quite as exciting seeing as Molly wasn’t even there lol, but I wanted to include some sort of variation in this AU mix. Hope you enjoyed it! I shall work on the last bit of this tale and hopefully get it posted soon. ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to sail off into the sunset! This was a fun little multi chapter to write, thanks so much for the very lovely feedback as I’ve been posting. ;)

“You cannot do this,” Molly stated firmly, her desperate gaze moving the minister to the handful of people sitting in the chapel as witnesses. “I am not willing, you cannot do this!”

In truth, they all looked nearly as terrified as she was. Moriarty had no doubt threatened all of them with some sort of ghastly consequence should they refuse to comply with his wishes. No, she’d surely get no assistance from these poor people. 

The two men holding her at each arm made it impossible to think of slipping away, and Molly was beginning to think that she really would end her day legally wed to a mad man, whether she liked it or not.

“Do what you want, but I shall never truly be your wife,” she hissed defiantly, turning back to her groom. “I’d die first.”

Moriarty snorted a laugh. “My darling girl, what makes you think I wish for one? I care nothing for such things. Lovely as you are, with any luck, we’ll never meet again after this day.” 

Then he leaned in closer to whisper menacingly. 

“But the point is...you’ll never be  _ his _ wife either.”

Her breath caught and an ache spread in her chest at those words. Silly, she reminded herself, since earlier that day she herself had been thinking that all hope for being with Sherlock was likely lost. And yet, hearing that the chance would truly be gone, that there would simply be no option left…that hit her awfully hard. Especially knowing now that somehow, in some way, Moriarty had become convinced that she was what Sherlock treasured. Did he truly want her, and would now never be able to have her? The possibile reality made her feel nothing short of physically ill. 

Moriarty tugged her in next to him. “Let us conclude this business quickly, shall we?” he suggested firmly, prompting the minister to begin.

The older man cleared his throat nervously, gave Molly one brief apologetic glance, and then opened his mouth.

“Dearly beloved…”

* * *

“Stay out here and keep watch,” Sherlock advised the Watsons as he swung down from his steed, sword drawn and ready.

“Holmes, you may need assistance,” John questioned, ready to follow. 

“No no, stay here with your wife,” he insisted. “Quite enough excitement already, for a woman in her condition.”

“Holmes!” John exclaimed, horrified. “I will forgive that impertinent and baseless assumption only because I realize you are under significant stress at the moment!”

“Yes, if it weren’t for that I’d have a good mind to slap you for talking as if a woman with child is somehow not able to move about as she normally would,” Mary added. “I am in no way impaired!”

At that, John began staring wide eyed back and forth between his wife and friend.

“D-do you mean to tell me…you truly are…” he stammered at Mary.

She grinned and nodded, throwing her arms around his neck for a happy embrace.

“Excellent,” Sherlock commented as he took his leave. “This will keep you busy while I go handle Moriarty.”

Sherlock crept up to the small chapel, making sure to peek in the window first to see what he’d be walking into. There didn’t seem much to worry about. Only a couple henchmen with Moriarty. The rest were villagers who would surely jump at the chance to make their own escape. Clearly Moriarty believe that this plan would be quick, simple, and done before Sherlock even noticed.

Thank God for Mary, he thought, or it might have gone that way.

Even the sight of Molly standing there at the altar with that man made him see red. But just then, Sherlock saw and heard his golden opportunity. He never could turn down a bit of drama, and making his entrance now would certainly add a dramatic flare to this rescue mission which was so close to his heart. 

He circled around to the double doors in front, took a deep breath, and then kicked them both wide open…

* * *

“Should anyone here present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Moriarty rolled his eyes. “Is that really necessary?”

“E-everything must be said properly, sir,” the minister explained fearfully.

The evil professor sighed and turned round to the small audience who sat cowering in their seats. Molly couldn’t help feeling sorry for all of them, used as pawns just like she was.

“Well?” he demanded of them with a dramatic wave. “Anyone bold enough to speak up? No? Not one of you? Well that’s rather boring, isn’t it? Ah well, such is life...boring! We may as well-“

The doors crashed open and the few people in that seaside chapel turned with gasps to see the famed Captain Holmes standing there with his sword drawn.    


A wave of the most delicious sort of relief crashed over Molly, her world lighting up once again with the hope that had nearly been snuffed out as she watched him step forward into the chapel.

Moriarty laughed, unnervingly cheery as he took hold of Molly’s arm once more.

“You see, I did warn you that I would burn the heart out of you,” Moriarty taunted Sherlock as he restrained his forced bride from bolting toward the man she truly loved.    


“You did,” Sherlock conceded simply. “I remember it awfully well, because I told you I had none.”

“Which we both knew was not true...and which I’ve now proven,” he sneered. 

Molly’s eyes met his, both of them seeing only each other for a moment. And in that  heart pounding moment, she took the chance to convey a secret message. She moved her eyes from his, slowly downward, looking pointedly toward the neckline of her gown, back at him, and then repeated the action for emphasis. She saw his gaze narrow, brow crinkle, and keen eyes brighten anew. Almost imperceptibly...but she saw it. Heaven help her, she believed he understood. 

“But did you stop to think, Moriarty,” Sherlock asked as he advanced slowly, still carefully observing the scene at the altar as Molly lifted her free arm very cautiously, “whether my heart was perhaps more than even you could handle?”   


At that moment, Molly pulled a concealed dagger from inside her bodice and turned to plunge it in the chest of the mad man who was too distracted by his enemy to pay attention to the woman that he wrongly assumed could be no threat to him. 

Adrenaline rushing through every inch of her being, making she pushed as hard as possible, sheathing the weapon completely in his flesh as he stared back at her in shock and horror. They stood like that, frozen for what seemed like an eternity to her, till finally his legs finally gave way beneath him and he crumpled to the ground at her feet, the little dagger Sherlock had given her years before still lodged in his stilled heart.

Molly gasped only then, in shock at what she’d just done, at all that had happened...that it was suddenly over. And that rush, that fire which drove her to action, still coursed through her as she looked back at Sherlock who stood halfway down the aisle. 

Her feet stumbled forward, managing to step over Moriarty as she rushed almost blindly toward her target.

The moment didn’t feel terribly romantic to her at first, as she practically collapsed into his arms and clung to his neck. But as she did, she felt herself become unexpectedly weightless, feet lifting from the ground as his sword clattered to the ground and arms locked around her waist to hold her tight against him.

And as his head dipped down and his nose nestled into the crook of her neck, drawing and releasing unsteady breaths, she felt the proof for herself...knew for certain. No more doubts.

Molly drew her own shuddering breath then, eyes filling with a rush of emotion as she clung to him in return. She turned her head just as he did the same.

Their lips came together, like one magnet to another, the connection far more confident and passion filled than she’d ever have thought in her wildest imaginings. As they melted into one another Sherlock gently set her down, both of them instantly sinking to their knees on the chapel floor, unable to even stay on their feet amidst the storm that was carrying them away.

He cradled her face reverently, finally pulling back from her pink lips to look into her eyes.

“You’re unharmed?”

Molly let out a little laugh. “As you see, Captain Holmes...yes I am.”

“Sherlock,” he corrected in an affectionate whisper.

“Sherlock,” she repeated softly, her hand coming up to caress his cheek. “My darling Sherlock.”

A playful smile appeared on his lips. “Would it be entirely inappropriate to conduct a marriage ceremony over the body of a mad man?” 

She laughed again, shaking her head. “Entirely, yes. Though…”

His eyes lit up.

“It could not possibly be inappropriate to request that the good minister follow us to a more fitting location,” she suggested, blushing at her own forwardness. “That is, if I am to understand...you’re asking?”

His expression became a bit somber, holding tight to her gaze. “Begging may be the more fitting term. For your forgiveness as well as your hand. It never should have come to this. I’ve been a fool, thinking I could give up the only treasure truly worth seeking. I should have made you mine the moment my feet were back on dry land.”

She bit her lip, grinning at the swoon worthy words coming from his magnificent lips. 

“And I hate myself, thinking that I was about to sail away once again, continuing to put more distance between you and I,” he continued. “I thank professor Moriarty for that at least, that his actions forced me to see the error of my ways. I simply cannot waste another moment of our lives. Can you ever forgive me?”

Molly smiled softly, fingers smoothing his cheek and then sinking back into his hair.

“I can. Though, I think you should still sail away.”

His expression fell, brows lifting in adorably pitiful question. 

She laughed, kissing his nose. 

“With me, Sherlock,” Molly added, her eyes sparkling with unparalleled happiness as his lips lifted again. “Make me your wife...and sail away with me.”

Another kiss was initiated then, this one full of thrill and promise. More than either of them could process all at once. But that was alright of course. They had plenty of time.

“You don’t mind leaving your home then?” Sherlock questioned as they eventually left the chapel hand in hand, the minister and Watsons following close behind. “Surely you’d not planned to leave England when you awoke this morning.”

Molly smiled up at him. “I’d not planned any of this. That does not make me any less grateful for it.”

His brow quirked humorously, gazing at her with obvious affection and pride. “You welcome the danger then, Miss Hooper?” 

“I both invite and welcome it,” she stated confidently, glancing out over the cliff side at the setting sun over the ocean, and then back at the man who she’d soon call husband. 

“Our love makes it all worthwhile.”


End file.
